


Pearls

by Inzannatea (Zanna23), PhryneFicathon



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 15:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16936089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanna23/pseuds/Inzannatea, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhryneFicathon/pseuds/PhryneFicathon
Summary: She didn’t always… or ever… see eye-to-eye with her diminutive battle-axe of an aunt, but she knew Aunt P’s heart was in the right place. Prudence Stanley loved very deeply, and that sometimes came out all wrong. Phryne loved her, despite… and if she were honest… because of, who Aunt P was.





	Pearls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [912luvjaxlean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/912luvjaxlean/gifts).



> From the prompt: Prudence and Hilly
> 
> I’ve been floating this idea around for ages, so when I got the prompt, I knew it had to be this. Life has sort of gotten in the way and it isn’t nearly as in depth as I intended, but I wanted to at least start the notion of Hilly and Prudence as “old friends”.

“Phryne! FInally! Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for days!” the doctor’s voice over the the telephone was bordering on panic.

“Calm down, Mac. I’ve been on a case in Wodonga, “ the raven-haired detective responded in mild agitation as she took off her gloves and hat. She loved her found family—she’d never trade them for anything—but she thought wistful of a time when she could do whatever or whomever she pleased, and no one would question. “I’ve only just arrived home.”

“It’s your aunt, Phryne. She’s here at the hospital. You need to come… quickly.”

And so she did. 

“Why didn’t you ask Jack where I was?” Phryne demanded as she stormed into the hospital, catching sight of her oldest friend, “I gave him my number at the lodge.” Surely, even with Mr. Butler visiting his niece and Dot home with the new bub, there’d be someone available in her household. Jack hadn’t gone with her to Wodonga because he had to work, but he could have…

“As it happens,” Mac rolled her eyes, “I tried that, but he’s gone off somewhere as well.” 

“What? Where?”

“I was not consulted” Mac huffed, “Can we talk about your aunt?”

With a bow of her head and tensing of her shoulders, Phryne nodded, “Of course Is it… time?”

Mac paused before answering, “I’m not sure. Medically, she seems to be as fit as one could expect of a woman her age and demeanor… I can’t find anything specifically that I can treat.”

“I don’t understand.” 

“She won’t—or can’t—wake up, but there doesn’t appear to be a medical reason for it,” Mac shrugged in frustrations, “It could be age, but until the last few days, she was quite healthy.”

“She hasn’t been quite herself since Arthur... “ Phryne offered a shrug. 

“True, but she’s rallied in recent years,” Mac pointed out, “The last time she threw a hospital fundraiser, she was positively chipper.”

“Let me see her,” Phryne said quietly. She didn’t always… or ever… see eye-to-eye with her diminutive battle-axe of an aunt, but she knew Aunt P’s heart was in the right place. Prudence Stanley loved very deeply, and that sometimes came out all wrong. Phryne loved her, despite… and if she were honest… because of, who Aunt P was.

Mac led her into the private hospital room. 

The figure in the bed seemed as small and fragile as a child. It had only been a few weeks since she’d last seen Aunt P, but she had noticeably thinned. Her normally rosy cheeks were dry and paper-white. Her shiny silver hair had tarnished to matte pewter. Her brow was knitted in worry, even as she slept.

“Luckily, we’ve been able to give her fluids, but she’s going to need to eat something. Soon.”

Phryne plopped into the chair next to the bed, “Oh, Aunt P…” she ran her hand down the old woman’s arm to find her hand. “What’s this?”

“Hmm?” Mac glanced up from the chart she was studying.

“Why has she got pearls in her hand?” Phryne was pulling the strand away. Prudence’s hand had been slack, but as the pearls travelled through her fingers she gripped them tightly. 

“That’s why,” Mac said, “she won’t let go. As long as we leave them touching her hand in some way, she lets us work around them, but those frail looking little fingers are like a vice if you try to remove them.”

“And she does this without waking up?” Phryne was incredulous. 

Mac nodded. 

Phryne studied the part of the strand that she’d managed to extract, “These aren’t hers.”

“What was that? Are you sure? Pearls all look the same, don’t they?” 

“Mac!” She huffed in exasperation, “These are creamrose pearls of excellent luster, and they belong to Hilly McNaster.” 

“How can you know that?” Mac demanded stupefied. 

“I have an excellent memory for jewelry.”

Mac nodded in thought, “McNaster? Mother of the murderer you caught... Gerald McNaster?” Phryne nodded. “Ah, well then… it’s ‘belonged’. Mrs. McNaster died last week. It was in the Argus.”

Phryne whipped her head around to Mac, “When last week?”

Mac dragged her hand down her face, “I really couldn’t…” 

“Was it about the time Aunt P was brought in?” 

The dawn of understanding crept over Mac’s face. “I… I think… yes, I think it was a day or two before Mrs. Stanley was brought in.”

Phryne turned back to her aunt and began stroking her hair gently. 

“Were they close?” Mac asked. 

Phryne shrugged, “I’m not sure. I know they were once. But Aunt P has endured so much loss that there may not have been much left to hold her up.”

“She’s strong.”

“She’s tired,” Phryne countered. 

“Are you staying?” Mac asked, “I have rounds.”

Phryne nodded as her only acknowledgment as Mac left the room. 

Her attention turned again to her aunt. Though small in stature, Aunt Prudence had always been a looming figure in her life. She seemed aloof all those years ago. Back before the inheritance. Back before Janey. She’d never been cruel to Phryne and Janey, but it was always a tepid kindness— if there was any acknowledgement at all—and outright spite towards the girls’ mother. It wasn’t until after Janey disappeared that Phryne saw Prudence show real kindness to her sister Margaret.

And it wasn’t until Phryne found the family plot that she realized there was more to Aunt Prudence than met the eye. Phryne found the cousins she’d never known. That there’d been an older boy named after his father was not surprising. Edward Jr had died young. Certainly before Phryne’s understanding. Scarlet Fever took him. 

There had been a baby girl named Margaret. Presumably after Phryne’s own mother, the baby’s aunt. Phryne never had discovered what took her, but she’d been the same age as herself. It made her realize that there was more to the story of the Parsons sisters than she’d ever considered before. What looked like hatred and spite for so long, was most likely deep hurt.

She stroked her aunt’s hair with one hand while idly rolling the pearls between the fingers of the other. 

“Hilly?” a very faint voice cried from the bed.

Phryne was startled out of her thoughts, “Aunt P. It’s me, Phryne.” 

A whimper from the bed. 

“Aunt P? Please wake up.” 

“Hilly,” Prudence cried softly.

Phryne continued to stroke her aunt’s hair as the old woman twitched and sobbed awake. 

Phryne pressed her lips to Prudence’s temple, “You need to eat something, Aunt P.”

Shaking sobs slowly stilled. 

“Water?” a raspy, weak voice requested. 

“Of course.” Phryne poured from the pitcher by the bed.

They sat in silence as Prudence sipped her water.

Eventually, Mac came in and examined her. No, she couldn’t say why she collapsed. Yes, she felt as if she could eat something simple.

“Aunt P?” Phryne started cautiously, “You called out Hilly’s name as you were waking… and you have her pearls.”

Prudence looked down at the pearls still clutched in her hand and then at something far, far away, “Did I?”

Phryne nodded, “You did. Can you tell me how you came by the pearls?”

Prudence shook her head. 

Phryne took a deep breath, “Aunt Prudence, I have to ask… do you remember hearing news about Hilly before waking up here?”

Tears formed again in her eyes. She nodded, “She died.”

Phryne’s eyes watered empathetically, “Yes. Were you with her?”

Prudence shook her head, “No… No, I haven’t seen her in…” her brow furrowed, “too long.” Her gaze shifted further and further away. 

“Tell me about her, Aunt P,” Phryne decided if Prudence was going to slide into the past, she should have company. 

“She died,” Prudence’s voice was scratchy and weak, “We were friends for a long time and then she died.”

Phryne squeezed Prudence’s wrist lightly, “I know, Aunt P. I’m so very sorry. Would you tell me about long ago? Tell me about Warleigh Grammar. When we were in Queenscliff, Hilly claimed she was never good enough for Warl…”

“Rubbish!” a flame of anger flared from Prudence, “That is absolutely not true. Hilly was… well, Hilly was glorious.”

Prudence clutched the pearls, bringing them to her heart. At first taken aback, Phryne smiled to see the spark of life back in her. 

“Tell me about her.”

Prudence calmed, looking back at the strand in her hands, “As I said. She was glorious. She was one of the scholarship girls. She always felt like she didn’t fit in because she didn’t come from money. It didn't help that the other girls said such terrible things. Of course, where she came from never bothered me.

“She was so lovely. Tall, fair, and slender with such natural grace. She was good at everything she did… much like your mother.”

“Good at everything except choosing a husband in mother’s case,” Phryne smiled sadly. 

Prudence, brought out of her memories glanced at Phryne and grunted in agreement, “Sadly, another way they were similar. Where Henry was recklessly unpredictable, Gerald--the elder Gerald--was cruelly so.” 

Prudence pressed the pearls more firmly into her bosom, “I begged her not to marry him.” 

“Mother or Hilly?” Phryne said with a sardonic smile.

With a heavy sigh, Prudence responded, “Both. For different reasons. Gerald, unlike Henry, was a upstanding young man. Wealthy.

“Henry was a cad. Always flirting with the other girls, never tuppence to rub together. He drank too much, gambled too much.”

“That hasn’t really improved with the years, but he at least has money now,” Phryne responded.

“As much as I despised Henry— I knew— I knew he loved Margaret. Gerald was different. He had no love in him. I suppose it really should have been no surprise that Gerald the younger ended up being a monster.”

“Did Hilly love him?” 

Prudence dropped her chin and shook her head lightly, studying the pearls, “She tried to convince me that she did. But no. No, she could never convince me. I think she saw Gerald as her best option.”

“Not an uncommon choice for women,” Phryne pointed out.

“No. It isn’t. I tried to talk her out of it. Tried to tell her there were better options… but, she wouldn’t hear me. She married him. He… he took her away from me,” tears stood in her eyes. 

“Took her away? Well, you had Uncle Edward. I remember how fond you were of each other.” 

Prudence smiled, “Yes. Edward was a wonderful man. He understood… he... “ She slid the pearls through her fingers again, “These were a gift.”

Phryne was mutely confused. 

“I gave her these pearls. When we were still so young. I gave her these. I loved her, Phryne. I loved her and the world isn’t that way,” tears fell from the eyes of both women, “for so long I thought God was punishing me for that—with my babies and Arthur— but I think I got it wrong. I… never told her. Omnia vincit amor. But it doesn’t… it couldn’t conquer the fear of what the world would think. I loved her and couldn’t tell her.”

“Oh, Aunt P,” Phryne gathered her aunt into her arms. Prudence sobbed into her shoulder for what felt like hours. Gradually, the sobbing ceased and Phryne realized Prudence had fallen again into sleep. The crease in her brow was not as pronounced, but she still clutched the pearls. 

She slid off the bed and back into the chair to keep watch over her brave aunt. For not the first time, and certainly not the last, she cursed a society which dictated how people were allowed to love. 

Hours later, still slumped in the bedside chair, soft lips caressed her forehead. His pomade and the clean, fresh familiar scent of him roused her from her slumber.

“Jack?” she was groggy and sleeping in the chair left her stiff. She stretched and blinked, “where have you been?”

“Queenscliff,” Jack nodded at the sleeping elderly woman in the bed, “Your aunt sent me on something of an adventure.”

“Really? Tell…” Phryne yawned widely, “Tell me everything.”

Jack leaned down, brushing his lips against hers, “Tomorrow. How is she?”

Phryne pouted, and then glanced toward Prudence, “I think she’ll be all right. Jack?” She turned toward him, reaching her hand to him. 

He took it without thought, “Hm?”

“I love you,” Phryne said simply. She’d said it before, but it was still a rare thing for her to say.

“What brought that on?” Jack smiled warmly. 

“I just wanted to make sure you know,” she stood, wrapping her arms around his neck, “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.”


End file.
